Of Marraige Vows
by Navel of the Turtle Man
Summary: Harry is in love with Luna as much as he loves having a family. Because I ship his kids as much as HarryxLuna. Warning: Adultery


Harry has never argued with Ginny over little things.

He let her pick out the curtains (red, even though he whole heartedly thought they had enough of that color running around their ankles).

He let her choose what they ate for dinner (never black pudding, even though that was his favorite).

He let her tell the children what was right and wrong (wrong was putting frogs down your sister's shirt, Albus, though Harry agreed with his son that day that Lily deserved it for calling him a Traitorous Snake).

And Harry always let Ginny decide how to spend the weekends (never too far from the Burrow, because the Weasley's always seemed a bit paranoid that someone might die if they didn't see them daily).

He's never argued with her over little things because the big things were what shook windows.

They argued about where he went at night (not to the Lovegoods―never! How could she assume that?)

They argued about who he saw (Luna was _not _spending more time with him at work than necessary―they had to work with Ancient Runes Department on lots of cases).

They argued about what he smelled like (Luna didn't even use perfume―how could he smell like her? How did she even know what Luna smelled like?)

They argued about the kids (could he help it if Albus was happy in Slytherin? Or Lilly in Ravenclaw?).

They argued about his job (he was an auror, damnit―he loved his job, and that wasn't going to change because she wanted him home more or to take a safer post).

Harry has never argued with Luna over the little things, but that's because there was no need.

There was no red in Luna's house, only purples, oranges, browns and grays (she'd had enough of reds, blues and greens at school, and yellow had been spoiled at Bill and Fleur's wedding).

Luna loved black pudding and knew just what weird things could spice it up (like nutmeg―who would have guessed _nutmeg_ made black pudding better?)

She knew all the odd foods he loved and made them every visit. Luna's thoughts of right and wrong were so loose and sugar coated in fantasy that they changed with every day (and she thought both children had been wrong―Albus should be kinder to frogs!).

Luna wanted to spend weekends with him―what did it matter where they were (never mind that they only spent one in a half dozen weekends near each other, and only for a few hours. But that never seemed to bother her.)

He never argued with her over the little things, and so somehow, the big things didn't make for fights either, only wistful looks and awkward comments.

Harry thinks he still loves Ginny for all the same reasons he did when he was sixteen.

He loves her temper, because make-up-sex gave him three perfect children.

He loves her hair, because every time he catches sight of it his heart races, telling him for a moment that his mother is nearby.

He loves her courage, because she's the only other one who knew Voldemort so intimately and sets the example by sucking it up and moving on.

He loves her because she is the mother of his children, and how can he not love that?

But he loves Luna for all the same reasons as when he was fifteen, and more.

He loves that she _likes_ thestrals, and so understands when he wants to seek them out in the depths of the local parks and fields.

He loves that she finds magic in absolute nonsense that would (and often does) baffle the most cunning of wizards.

He loves that she hasn't got a mean bone in her body, yet can cast banishment spells that have been known to send men to places like Burma for a day or two when they cross her.

He loves that she understands what it means to hear voices in a room where there are no people but yourself and only a thin piece of gauze between you and those you've lost, and so doesn't find it odd when he wants to spend hours standing in front of it, just _listening_ to them all.

He loves Luna because she is and always will be Loony Luna Lovegood, and there are no expectations, as a man or a hero, when the company you keep believes they can see monsters batting around your ears.

Two women hold vice grips on his heart, but Harry finds with each passing day that he is not sure who's heart he still holds in _his_ hands.

Luna's is lost to the fantastical world she was brought up to believe in, full of conspiracies and imaginary creatures and things that could but are so rarely there.

Ginny's is forever tied up in her family, and he realizes now that to loose her would be to loose much more than he can bare, because didn't he loose his whole family once, before he'd had a chance to understand _why_?

And now he was risking it again, all for the love of a woman that he couldn't help but wish (only some days) had been his children's mother instead.

Harry has lived his life as a balancing act for almost a year now, and the number of happy days he has at home can be ticked off on one hand. But when his children come home, running full force into their parents arms, he cannot help but wonder if, by taking up Luna, he is giving up much more.

And yet, he knows that, worth it or not, when the day ends and Ginny sleeps, he will dream of blue-moon eyes and pale hair. And when the next assignment comes, his soul knows he will find an excuse to be in the Ancient Runes Department, despite Ron's mistrusting looks.

Because he is in love with Luna as much as he loves his family.


End file.
